MORTAL COILS (102 page)

He
had daydreamed about being a hero his entire life. Why then did this seem like
a huge disappointment? As if it were something in between winning and losing?

Lucia
took a step closer and held out an amulet on a chain. It was a gold-and-lapis
eye that looked like an Egyptian hieroglyphic. “I present you with the Eye of
Horus and invite you to join the Brotherhood of Immortal Heroes.”

Eliot
reached for it . . . but he hesitated.

This
didn’t feel right. It wasn’t because they had proclaimed Fiona a goddess and
him a mere hero (although that did annoy him). It was something else that
whispered that he didn’t belong with these people.

Yesterday
they might have killed him had he failed their test. They might still kill him
and his sister if half of what Audrey said about their politicking was true.

Lucia
looked concerned as she continued to hold out the amulet. “Come, join the
prestigious ranks of Gilgamesh, Hercules, Arthur, and Beowulf. Immortals all.
You are their equal. Their kin.”

Eliot
felt hundreds of eyes upon him. His hand trembled. He should just take the
thing.

No—that’s
what the old Eliot Post would have done. The scared-in-the-shadow-of-his-sister
Eliot Post. The “good little boy” who always did as he was told.

He
wasn’t that person anymore.

And
then Eliot finally understood what all the fighting and trials and lies were
about. They were trying to influence him . . . but in the end this was his
decision.

He
got to choose whether he joined the League or sought his father and became part
of his clan.

An
Immortal or a fallen angel . . . both seemed dangerous . . . was there another
option? A way to be independent of both families?

He
looked about the amphitheater, into faces full of anticipation and cruelty,
curiosity and hope.

His
gaze fell on his sister. Fiona leaned forward, confused by his delay. She
looked as if she wanted to come to him and help with whatever was wrong.

Aunt
Dallas and Aaron, however, held her back.

That
was the thing: if he didn’t join the League, he might never see his sister
again.

Life
without Fiona? No more insults, no more racing, no more putting up with her
relentless competitive drives? Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, after
all. But, Cecilia had said they were stronger together—and that had been proved
true over and over these last few days. How many times would they have died
without each other?

Eliot
had a feeling they’d need that combined strength for whatever happened next . .
. a small price to pay for her constant-annoying factor.

Besides,
Fiona was his sister. He couldn’t just leave her alone with these people.

“Okay,”
Eliot whispered, then louder said, “I accept. I’ll join you.”

Aunt
Lucia started to loop the amulet over Eliot’s head.

He
reached up and took it from her. “Thanks.”

She
nodded, not understanding, but nonetheless releasing the Eye to his custody.

There
was no way Eliot was ever wearing anything around his neck. Not after what he’d
seen happen to Beelzebub in the alley.

He
turned and held up the amulet for all to see.

A
great cheer sounded through the amphitheater.

Fiona
rushed to his side and they hugged.

It
was over. Finally, they could rest, be happy, and have some semblance of a
normal life . . . at least for a while, he hoped.

Others
quickly surrounded them, Gilbert, Uncle Henry, Cornelius— others whom Eliot had
never before seen, embracing him, shaking his hand, and all talking, so he
couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.

Lucia
rang her silver bell. “Order. Order!” she cried.

The
crowds quieted.

“Very
well,” Lucia said. “I see no further League business will be accomplished
today.”

“Only
the business of celebration,” Uncle Henry shouted. “I have prepared a feast and
music at my most humble domicile. I invite all to partake of my hospitality.”

A
new cheer erupted, louder than the first.

Lucia
rang her silver bell, but this time everyone ignored her, and Eliot barely
heard as she yelled, “I hereby declare this session of the Council of Elders
dismissed.”

Gods
and goddesses, heroes and Immortals of every shade, stood and

clapped
and hooted. Everyone mingled and pressed to the center to greet Eliot and
Fiona.

“So
many relations you will meet tonight,” Uncle Henry said, draping his arms about
them. “This is where the real tests and trials begin. Family politics.”

Lucia
maneuvered close to Henry. “And the matter of your escaped Driver? He must be
punished.”

“I
have taken care of that,” Uncle Henry assured her. “I promise you, Robert
Farmington’s penalty for his misdeeds will be unparalleled in the history of
torture.”

Eliot
and Fiona locked eyes, horrified.

77

THE
END OF SUMMER

Fiona
eased back into Robert and his arms entwined about her.

They
stood at the railing of the Wayward Lost and watched the Caribbean Sea roll
past. The sun had yet to rise but she had already gone for a swim, played with
the dolphins, and had breakfast. It was going to be another glorious day in the
Bahamas playing on Uncle Henry’s sailboat.

“Does
it have to end?” she asked.

“No,”
Robert replied. “Just close your eyes. We’ll always be here together.”

Fiona
was not one for daydreaming, but for this, she’d make an exception. She closed
her eyes.

“Remember
the beachcombing?” he whispered in her ear. “All the glass floats you found?”

“The
midnight walk,” she whispered back. “The turtles coming onshore.”

“Snorkeling
on the reef.” “That beach of red sand. I don’t think anyone had ever been there
before.”

She’d
done things she had only ever read about. It was the life she had always
wanted: travel, adventure . . . and, of course, there had been Robert— strong,
tanned, ruggedly handsome, and forever cool.

That’s
how she would remember this week.

There
was only one thing she would’ve changed. She glanced at the aft deck. Uncle
Aaron gently snored and rocked back and forth in a hammock strung between the
mizzen- and mainmasts.

She
was sure he watched them. He was always watching. Uncle Henry’s idea of a
chaperone.

Aaron
hadn’t said much the entire week. He seemed to sleep most of the time, yet he
had the uncanny knack to be around every corner, just over the next sand dune,
waiting, and making sure that she and Robert didn’t get into any trouble.

After
everything that had happened, Fiona realized that family trouble could be very
real, especially for the people around them.

Del
Sombra had burned to the ground. No one had died, but dozens of people were
hurt, and many homes and businesses lost.

That,
however, wasn’t exactly the kind of trouble Uncle Aaron was here to stop.

She
and Robert had taken moonlit swims in the bay, stolen kisses, walked hand in
hand . . . but nothing more than that, although she desperately yearned for
more.

On
the other hand, maybe a protracted and protected romance wasn’t such a bad
idea. Things between her and Robert could get . . . complicated.

She
took Robert’s hand and drew him around so they both leaned over the railing.
“Are you still going to drive for Uncle Henry?”

“I
think so. If Mr. Mimes can finagle it past the Council.” Robert gestured to the
boat. “I’m supposed to be getting punished.”

“Maybe
you should stay away for a while.”

Robert
smiled. “What? Get fat here in paradise? I don’t think so. There are no roads,
and I was born to drive.” He patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Mr. Mimes won’t let
anything happen to me.”

Fiona
wasn’t so sure about that, but she understood that Robert would never let
anyone coop him up. No one told him how to run his life. That was one of the
things she admired about him.

She
absentmindedly touched the rose wrapped around the string of her bikini top.
Fiona wasn’t sure if it was a real plant or jewelry. It felt both like metallic
silver and organic. It had gone everywhere with her, impervious to the sun and
water and wind, and still as fragrant as when Aunt Lucia had presented it to
her. Every time she inhaled its perfume, it made her smile, reminded her that she
had accomplished something . . . and that she was in the League.

Her
fingers interlaced with Robert’s on the railing.

“There
are rules about Drivers dating people in the League,” she said.

“Some
rules were meant to be broken.” Robert gently stroked her fingers.

Fiona
removed her hand from his and set it back on the railing—close, but no longer
touching him.

“I
don’t know.”

“What
do you mean?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“I
mean . . .”

Fiona
couldn’t make the words come. She had faced death, gods, and devils—this was
harder. It had to be said, though, if not for her sake, then for Robert’s.

“I
mean, I’d love to spend every day with you like this, but that’s not going to
happen. The League is going to be there, watching, and drawing you into their
politics because of me.”

Robert
turned to her, the hurt plain on his face.

She
turned away. “I’m not saying this is the end. It is the start of something
between you and me . . . I’m just not sure what. I need to take some time to
figure out how it’s all going to work.”

Robert
lifted her chin so she had to look him in the eyes. “I get it. You’re afraid
I’m in over my head. That I’ll get hurt.”

“You
are in over your head,” Fiona whispered.

A shadow
crossed Robert’s features as if he remembered something unpleasant—just for a
moment—and then it was gone. He nodded and exhaled. “Maybe you’re right.”

They
turned back to the ocean and watched the waves, neither saying anything.

What
was there to say? She wanted Robert, but not if he was going to get hurt or
killed because of her.

It
was all so unfair.

It
was like a big chess game with hundreds of pieces—aunts, uncles, cousins—and
rules she was just starting to learn. It was exciting, yes, but confusing and
dangerous as well. She couldn’t drag Robert into that.

And
what about Audrey? Where did she fit on the chessboard? Had she protected Fiona
and Eliot only because it was her duty? Or was there some love left in her
heart for them?

Is
that what it meant to be a goddess? To be completely isolated? Cut off from
your own emotions?

Fiona
tried to feel something.